


Uncomfortable personal space issues.

by HiAjay



Series: Dean is my Brother! [4]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Hunter!Stiles, I REGRET NOTHING, Were!Lyida, female!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Stiles is half naked and a sly Derek makes his way into her room? . . . . Nothing, because Derek is Derek and Stiles doesn't get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Okay, it wasn’t Stiles’ fault. It really wasn’t. Why would it be? Just because she’s become more than friendly with the neighborhood werewolf doesn’t mean it’s her fault that said werewolf is hiding in her closet.

 

“Stiles.” Dean said as he pulled her computer chair from her desk and sat down in front of her. She sat on the edge of her bed and was definitely _not_ sweating bullets, she wasn’t.

 

“I know that I’ve been, uh, well a dick lately.”

 

“Understatement of the year.” She said sarcastically. Dean gave her a glare, which by now, she is already used too. It’s been about five or so months since Stiles met Derek’s pack, and she’s hung out with them every day since. Turns out, they all go to the same school, important part is that Derek does the same glare thing with his eyebrows as Dean does with his whole face.

 

And just because they go to the same school does it mean that Stiles waits with Erica until Derek drives by just to see him; it’s not like she doesn’t see enough of him anyway. But really who can blame her.

 

“Besides the point. Stiles I, I don’t know what it is that you want me to change. It’s been a month, _more_ than a month.” Dean says, he’s voice raising, Stiles knows this voice. It’s the _if-you-don’t-work-with-me-here-I-might-just-shoot-something_ voice.

 

“I’m sorry. I just miss my big brother. The big brother that knew how to scare away the monsters.” Stiles knows how to play Dean, she knows what to say to pull his heart strings, she isn’t proud of it, but there is a hot werewolf trapped in her closet, and she needs Dean out of her room before he knows that.

 

“Now, I really would like to sleep. You and I can talk about this when I’m full of Aunt Ellen’s pancakes.” Stiles says with a nod. Dean sighs and agrees. Soon he’s out the door and down the hall. Sighs let’s out a sigh and heads to her closet, “You okay, big guy?” She asks as Derek makes his way out of the closet.

 

He looks at her disapprovingly, “What?” she says, “If I didn’t shove you in the closet Dean would have shot you. Seriously he always carries a gun with him.”

 

“I could’ve left.” Derek stated as he went to his place on the window sill. “Not before he got here, apparently you lack some sense when your around me.” She jokes.

 

Derek’s eyebrows do that weird thing where they’re angry but they want to meet his hairline. Stiles sighs and flops down on her bed. “He loves you.” Derek whispers. Stiles turns her head just enough to see Derek and she huffs, “He loves pie more than me.” Derek looks out of the window.

 

The cool nightly breeze started as if on time with Derek’s dramatic movement. Stiles had to bit back a laugh.

 

“I know he loves me.” Stiles answers seriously, “He just doesn’t like who I am.”

 

\--

 

So the universe thought it would be hilarious if Stiles was stuck in a Fox hole.

 

It wasn’t like she was looking for trouble, and it wasn’t like she meant to find it. I guess now would be a time that Scott would tell her she was a trouble-creator. Because the universe was currently mocking her; she was just walking the forest when she tripped on a branch and dove face first into said Fox hole.

 

Now, she wasn’t planning on having her day ruined in such a way. But here she was, stuck waist deep in a fox hole.

 

She did was she knew best. She looked around to try and find a stick or a branch to help make the entrance wider for her to push herself out. Because her logical brain told her it was a good plan.

 

What she wasn’t expecting was fox itself to show up early, but when was life fair to stiles, when was it ever fair. She knew the fox was there because what else was jumping up and down on her ass. Stiles was running out of luck, and she didn’t want to move, but it’s not in her nature to stay so still.

 

“Fox, hey, um, I, well my ass and I would like you to stop.” Stiles said as she wiggled her legs about. That’s when a sharp pain struck her other left thigh “Son of a bitch!” She yelled as she thrashed her legs around her hands digging into the warm den floor. The pain ceased as she heard the fox yelp.

 

She stopped her movement and gave a minute to feel horrible for hurting a beautiful creature; but then she remember that it _bit her._

 

Stiles is loose enough to wiggle out of the fox hole. She popped out and tripped back on her ass “My fuckin’ luck.” She curses as she brushes her hair out of her fair. It was times like these that she wishes she was a guy, she would have to worry about her hair or her appearance. And she most defiantly didn’t have to explain it if she came home filthy.

 

“Damn fox.” She looked down at her thigh, and yup. There’s blood, the wound didn’t feel deep but that much blood only meant that if Stiles didn’t run home she’d be dead with in a three hours. She’s done the math once with Dean when he had a similar bite.

 

Stiles mind froze.

 

The last time either of them were bitten it wasn’t because they just had bad luck. No, it meant that something supernatural was out to get them.

 

But, no. That couldn’t be. There was nothing supernatural planning Stiles’ fall into a fox hole. Unless that was just a greater turn of events for them having the upper hand on her.

 

Oh god. Stiles breathing sped up and her mind began to think of all the horrible thing that could lead to her untimely death.

 

“Oh god. . . Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.” She repeated as she quickly stood up. Big mistake; her leg began to throb painfully and her vision was suddenly blurry. _Home,_ she thought. She raced in the direction with a limp in her run.

 

She was clumsy, she knew she was but her life could possibly be in danger.

 

The impala wasn’t in the driveway when she got home. Both a good and horrible sign, this could be nothing _or_ this could be something and Dean would have to  . . . gank her.

 

Stiles swallowed hard as she worked her way in through the sliding back door. She heard snoring and remembered uncle Bobby stayed behind for something. She didn’t want to wake him. Even if he wouldn’t kill her, he could just as well jump the gun (Hah, get it? Gun? Okay, now is not the time for jokes.)

 

Stiles made her way quietly to the upstairs bathroom. Which wasn’t easy with her coordination and current bleeding to death wound; she made it with less noise then expected and locked herself in the bathroom.

 

First things first, her current pants were not good luck at all, she ripped them from the gapping hole exposing the wound. Second, whiskey that Dean kept in the mirror cabinet she pushed the mirror open and took the small glass bottle that sat there.

 

She’d blame it on Sam later.

 

She pulled the first aid out and left it on the sink next to the toilet where she sat. The bite burned even before she poured the whiskey. “One, two . . . ” Stiles poured and bite her lip as she groaned at the pain.

 

She wasn’t a fan of pain, and you’d think that working as a hunter would mean she’d be used to it. But she wasn’t. She hated pain for many reasons.

 

She pushed the thought out of her head and opened to first aid kit. She pulled out some gauze and wrapped it around her thigh.

 

The pain didn’t cease. It was throbbing and her blood felt like it was running cold. Which in her magical life is never a good sign; she opened the door and limbed to her room where she pulled out a large leather bound book that sat solitary on it’s own shelf on her bookshelf.

 

There had to be a spell to undo something. Unless someone put a spell on the fox and gave it her scent. But no, they’d have to be close to the fox hole to know that. Or they had to be stalking her.

 

A knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts.

 

“Stiles?” Bobby’s gruff voice called her to reality.

 

“Uh, yeah?” She answered, trying to keep her shaky voice under control. Bobby took a second to think it over. “I heard you come in, I just had to be sure.” He said.

 

Stiles sighed “Uh, yeah, it’s me, same old me as when I left this morning, you know when I went for that walk, just a few hours ago.”

 

“Yeah, Okay.” She heard him say. She’s still alive to create attention to herself. She heard Bobby head back down Stairs and looked back at her book. There had to be a way for her to undo it. Whatever it was.

 

She searched for hours, she knows it was hours because when she blinked her eyes burned and her back threatened to fall apart on her. Dean and Sam where home; she knew this because Dean yelled “Birth!”

 

It was a strange thing they did, every time when one of them (Almost always Stiles) was left at home alone and they were in their rooms they’d know when they got back.

 

Stiles wasn’t ready to face them. She didn’t want to tell them, she didn’t have to. Even if she somewhat had Dean back. She couldn’t tell him what happened. She wasn’t even sure if it was magical or not. Stiles shook her head of the though and started to undress; she pulled her shirt and her bra off, then lowered the waist band of her pants slowly over the wound on her thigh.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Holy mother of god!” Stiles reached for the closets covering which happened to be her sheet. She whipped around once she was properly covered and frowned with a slight blush when she saw Derek sitting there on her window sill.

 

“You have some impeccable timing there.” She joked. Derek’s eyebrows were currently looking at her asking ‘ _what the hell are you talking about?_ ’

 

Derek nodded towards her thigh; she couldn’t hide a fresh wound from a werewolf. It was a little know fact, she’s tested the theory when she was fighting off that witch two towns over. Scott didn’t miss it and neither did Derek. “Uh, I fell.” She said with a sarcastic shrug hoping he would buy it. Turns out he didn't.

 

Derek rolled his eyes and his eyebrows where saying ‘ _and this isn’t new because I know you._ ’ Derek stepped into her bedroom and she took a reflective step back. “Not that I don’t like you and all, it’s just that I, well, I have this, uh, well not have I just didn’t thi-”

 

“You smell wrong.” Derek said, stopping Stiles’ chatter, she frowned hard enough that she thought she could imamate Derek’s scowling.

 

“Hey!” She said “I don’t go into your bedroom or whatever and tell you, _you_ smell _wrong_.” She tightened her grip on her sheet as Derek shot his glare at her. This scared her. Derek takes a cautious sniff of her bedroom them takes a step towards her.

 

She takes on back. They go back and forth like that until Stiles is stuck between the gap that her computer desk and the wall decided was a good idea.

 

Derek was arms length away and Stiles’ couldn’t help the blush that now highlighted her face. Stiles knows very well that Derek can smell her complete and totally arousal. But it doesn’t seem to phase him. Derek takes another step towards her and Stiles does what she knows best.

 

“Uh, not that I don’t enjoy the lack of personal space and I know this whole sniffing thing is your way of saying hi or whatever, but I’m kind of a trapped mouse here and I’d-”

 

Stiles looks up to meet Derek’s eyes and their a pricing red. She’s only seen these eyes once before. But Derek was fighting off a challenging Alpha. And as far as Stiles knows she wasn’t challenging him and she most defiantly wasn’t an Alpha.

 

Derek took another sniff of the air surrounding her, not taking a step closer, which Stiles knew was a good idea. Because let’s face it, she was totally reaching for her knife that was taped to the side of her computer table. “You don’t smell-”

 

“Right, yeah, I know. I was out running in the forest when I fell into a fox hole. I haven’t showered. Thank you for reminding me that I sink.”

 

Derek shook his head “No.” Stiles raise a brow and held the blanket closer to her, in fear that Derek wanted to act out on her arousal. Scary thought considering that she’s seen herself with Derek in fantasies.(Shut the hell up. You’d see it too if you spend half the time with him.)

 

“You smell of something else.” He added.

 

“Well a fox jumped me while I was there.” For a second Stiles thought she broke Derek’s face. His eyebrows were stuck in angry mode but the rest of his face went south. Then second later Derek was back. “Let me see it.” He demanded.

 

Stiles pushed on the wall behind her, “Whoa buddy, I, this is moving to fast for me, I’m still thinking you hate me for talking so much so I need a little more to-”

 

“Stiles.” Derek growled low and deep. That always sent shivers down her spine. Whenever Derek called her name sent shivers down her spine. Stiles relented and shoved Derek out of the way. She worked pasted him and went to her bathroom. She’d much rather do this clothed.

 

When she emgered she was in her PJ shorts, which Scott always said were way to short; and she’d reply “That’s why I wear them to sleep, and not out in public.” And Dean’s black t-shirt. Derek’s face pinched slightly before he looked for the wound on her thigh.

 

Stiles sat on her bed and pointed to the gauze that wrapped around her thigh. “Just a bite.” She says. Derek kneels down on and reaches for the wound. Derek’s hands make contact with her cold skin and she takes intake of breath, Derek pulls back and looks up at her.

 

“Your hands are warm, I, uh, my skin was cold.” She explained. Derek went back to the wound he began to unwrap it Stiles had to think of something else. Because here she was, the worst luck in the world and the worlds hottest werewolf is almost four inches from bad(She thought bad, but she wished and hopped good.) touching her.

 

Once the gauze was removed Derek huffed that huff that every bad boy/good boy does when they looked pissed because they know what they’re dealing with. And said huff blew right on the exposed wound causing Stiles to shake.

 

The warm breath against her cold skin was like hands gently tracing each pattern and marking on her, which would be her freckles. (shut up, their adorable on pale skin. Or so Greenburg told her . . . EW.)

 

“What’s the prognoses, Doc?” Stiles said, “Doesn’t look good, Harold.” She answered herself. Derek looked up at her and with a glare, “What?” she asked, “Day time television changes a girl.” She said jokingly.

 

Derek sighed and shook his head. He looked back down at the wound and wrapped it up. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” He said.

 

Stiles thought it strange, one because Derek never tells her he’d be back to see her. He just shows up like clockwork.

 

Second, “Wow, it must be serious if you had to tell me you’d be back to see me.” She said. Derek finished wrapping it up again and stood up. “Am I going to die? Because if I am, wait, can you smell death? Is that a thing? Or am I just freaking myself out?”

 

“You’re not going to die.” Derek answered. But that’s all he answered. The man could probably smell death and just didn’t want to tell her . . . Because she was dying.

 

A knock came to her door and she looked at it as it happened, she turned back to tell Derek to leave, but he was already gone.

 

“Come in.” she said.

 

“Hey.” Sam said as he pushed the door opened and peaked his head in. “Weren’t sure if you were up here.”

 

“I’m always here.” She said.

 

Sam smiled with a nod. “You hungry?” Stiles just shook her head and thanked whatever god made it night time. “I was about to go to bed.” She said. Sam sighed and nodded, “Dean’s night to cook anyway.” Stiles shared a laugh with Sam about Dean’s horrible cooking skills.

 

“Goodnight.” He said as he closed her door. “Night.” She whispered.

 

That night Stiles cried. Her body knew something was wrong. Something was totally wrong. She could feel it like a tug at her soul (One bad experience with Cas touching her soul was enough to keep the feeling.)

 

Something was changing and she didn’t know what.


	2. Let's Learn the ropes!

Stiles woke up with a burning headache. Yes, a burning headache. She rolled on her side and opened one eye to look at her window.

 

But no sign of Derek; the window was closed while she was asleep. Derek must have thought that Stiles closed it to keep him out. But that never stopped him before. Stiles stretched greedily before cringing at the sudden pain around her waist.

 

She carefully jumped out of bed and walked to her full length mirror and pulled the dark shirt up. A dark purple and green line worked its way around her waist like a belt. “The fox hole.” She added to reassure herself.

 

She closed her eyes and sighed. She’s woken up with worse, but, Oh. She looked down at the gauze and started to unwrap it. As it came undone and gathered on the wood floor she examined the . . . “Wha- What the hell?” she cursed as she turned to her side, like it’d make the view better for her.

 

But it didn’t. The bite was gone.

 

That was not a good sign. Even with her magic healing abilities, she couldn’t heal a wound that deep that fast. Stiles was sure that this was supernatural. Only one way to find out.

 

Stiles walked to her desk and pulled the blade that was taped to the side. Stiles was wary, she held the blade just inches from her forearm.

 

“You’ve done it before, Stiles.” She tells herself. Stiles heard something that she didn’t, couldn’t register until she turned to her window. Derek hasn’t even opened it yet, but there he was staring back at her like he wasn’t expecting it.

 

“How did I-?”

 

Derek opens the window and looks at the blade in her hand “That’ll burn. But it won’t kill you.” He said. Stiles watched him carefully then turned back to the blade in her hand. “How-? What-? What exactly is going on with me? I have healing abilities, but none are that fast? And I know that there is no such thi-”

 

“Werefox.” Derek supplied.

 

Stiles dropped her arms to her sides, still holding firmly to the blade. “I did my research, I looked through all the books. There’s no way werefoxes are a thing. Is there?”

 

Derek watched the blade in her hand, “Shapeshifters exist.” Derek said, “In the supernatural world I’m sure that anything is possible.” He added.

 

Stiles sighed and tossed her blade on her computer desk. “How the hell am I going to know if I am this, this  _Werefox?_  I mean, is there any actual way of finding out, or will I just have to sit and wait?” she sat on her unmade bed and groaned in disbelief. “Here I thought I had enough secrets to hide from my brothers. But no, the world thinks it’s hilarious to screw with me.”

 

Derek huff with a slight shake in his head. Stiles then started to smell something pleasant, something that smelled like after rain roads and forest trails. She looked around, the smell was strong and prominent. Stiles tilted her head back a little, if only slightly. She took a curious sniff, and the scent was spreading throughout her room.

 

“You’re new sense of smell.” Derek informed.

 

Stiles nodded and took another whiff if the air. “It’s weird, but I want to continue to smell it, it’s like home, and being safe. It feels comfortable, like I’ve known it before.” Stiles eyes shut and she just let’s herself drown in this scent.

 

Her brothers really don’t come into her room that often, and she can’t smell anything else but this dominate scent. Stiles opens her eyes and looks over at Derek, “What now? With these new freaky supernatural powers? I’m I going to fox-out every full moon?”

 

Stiles thinks she sees a smile on his face, or at least a small smile. “Foxes are different from wolves on that term. But the pack can train you to control it.” Derek says. He leans on her window sill and waits for her to start talking, to start asking questions.

 

“Well, I’m life is just one huge joke to the universe, isn’t it. Not that I regret meeting the pack and, uh, yeah. How am I going to keep this a secret? I’ve sort of kept a lot of things from them, but they get suspicious and that I can’t control.” Stiles heaves a sigh as she stands from her bed.

 

“Okay, so this shift thing, it doesn’t happen on the full moon with me. So I’m okay until I do some more research on it. So long as I don’t shift out of the blue in front of my brothers.” She laughs at the actual probability if it happening.

 

Stiles then hears murmurs and footsteps on the . . . . Bottom floor. She knows her facial expression changed because Derek is looking like he’s holding on to the scowl a little too tightly. “Why the hell can I hear what their saying  _downstairs?_  This is really trippy and I don’t think I like this, it’s freak-”

 

Stiles stops mid-sentence when she hears a thumping sound. “What’s- what’s that noise? It’s like a thumping and I-”

 

“Those are hearts.” Derek says. Stiles looks up at them, “You’ll be able to tune that one out with practice.” Derek shrugs. Stiles gives him a wary nod. The footsteps then get louder and Derek is out her window before her door gets knocked on.

 

The knocks are loud and they hurt her ears, she cringes at the door opens. “You awake, it’s almost noon.” Sam’s voice calls her, “I know teenagers are supposed to love sleep, but Dean’s starting to think you’ve got a problem.” He laughs.

 

“I’m awake, well sort of been. But uh, hey, uh, what’s for brea- uh, lunch?” Sam gave her a side smirk and nodded before answering “Bobby is making steak on the grill.”

 

Stiles pinches her face and Sam chuckles, “He made mac n’ cheese for you. Since you’re his favorite.” Stiles new she was Bobby’s favorite, only because she wasn’t as much as an idjit like her brothers. “I’ll be down in a minute. Just have to do, uh, girly things and what not.”

 

Sam nodded weirdly and closed the door as he left. Stiles let the breath she didn’t know she was holding “Good god all mighty, this is going to kill me.”

 

“You’ll just heal again.”

 

“Sweet mother mary!” Stiles shouts to herself as she turns on her bed and glares unsuccessfully at Derek. “You’re totally not helping. How am I supposed, what am I supposed . . . You know what, I have no idea what I’m doing and I think I’m freaking out more than I should but really can you-”

 

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is smooth, a smooth Stiles has never heard it before, it was like listening to something really clear and deep. She didn’t realize she’d ever want to hear Derek talk more than then she does now. “Breathe.” He crosses his arms over his chest and gives her a stern look.

 

Stiles does as told, which brings the smell of safety and comfort flooding back in. But above all that there’s blood, a rusty, metallic smell that causes her nose to wrinkle. “What the hell is that smell?” she rubs her nose as she looks up at Derek.

 

“That’s what a hunter smells like.” Derek says, “After they’ve finished a hunt.”

 

Stiles almost cringes. She began to wonder if she always smelled like that around Derek, if that’s why he was always able to find her. And why it took him months to trust her with his pack.

 

“You don’t smell like them.” Derek says, as if he read her mind. “Your magic scents your actual smell.” Stiles looks back at her door and sighs, “Are they always going to smell like that?”

 

Derek doesn’t answer her question. She shook her head and pulled out some clothes from her closet. She got dresses and said she’d meet Derek and the pack later. She headed down stairs when Derek finally left.

 

She was meet with the smell of warm fire and meat that was grilled medium rare. It was strange to know what everything smelled like. Bobby was in the kitchen cutting the meat. He turned around when he heard her entering the room.

 

He smiled at her, “Stiles, good afternoon.”

 

\--

 

Derek paced his living room while his beta’s mumbled to him about seeing Stiles again. Because as much as he’d hate to admit it out loud, they all grow attached to her; Derek has found that he—no, he isn’t going there. He’s lived this whole time, he can continue to do so.

 

“Derek!”

 

Derek turns to face his beta’s, all watching him pace the floor. “When is Stiles coming over, since you’ve been getting to see her almost every night since you’ve met her. When do we get to see her?”

 

Derek huffs with a scowl. He has not gone to see her every night. Or at least he won’t admit it out loud. Stiles hasn’t visited the Hale house in almost a month, her scent is wearing thin and he can’t  pick her out of the scent of his beta’s. Not that Derek cares or anything.

 

“So, boss. You going to tell us what happened to her?” Boyd asks. Derek sighs and stops his pacing and gives Boyd a stern glare.

 

“A Werefox.” Derek says, “It bit her two nights ago. She’d be over before sundown.” His beta’s stare at him blankly, just like if he’d gone mad.

 

“A—A Werefox?” Erica says. Derek rolls his eyes. “They exist.” He adds. Erica holds her hands up in surrender, Derek begins his pacing sinking further into his thoughts.

 

“You’ve got it bad, Boss.” Erica mocks with a wide grin. Derek growls low in warning then heads upstairs to his bedroom. His thoughts will be his own in his den.

 

Derek was in the comfort of his den, his bedroom. The only bad thing about it is—Stiles’ scent isn’t in this room. Stiles ventured the house before, she steps into every room she can. But she only ever grazes past it.

 

Derek heaves a sigh and just falls on his bed. Sleep will do him good.

 

\--

 

Stiles is walking through the woods, heading to the Hale house. She like the smell of fresh air, compared to the rotting and metallic smell her brothers carried around. Bobby smells of Jack Daniels, it’s off putting.

 

Stiles shoved her hands into her leather jacket pockets, she took a deep breath taking in the new scents, soaked wood floors, wild flowers and—home. Safety. Stiles opened her eyes to see she stood in front of the Hale house.

 

Well, at least her nose won’t let her astray. She walked to the front porch and invited herself in like she’s done many times now. Scott was the first to greet her when she made it to the living room.

 

“Wow, you _reek._ ” He wrinkled his nose. Stiles took a conscious sniff of herself “Shut up you-.” Stiles stopped at the scent finally hit her. “I never realized you guys smell like wet dog.” She placed a finger under her nose. Erica’s eyes lit up and she stood up and practically toppled over everyone to jump her in an embrace.

 

“You can _smell_ us?” Stiles stiffs under Erica’s touch, she doesn’t understand why, she’s recived many hugs from her, but this one seemed to scare her. “Yeah, I can.” Stiles says.

 

Erica makes a gleeful noise and sticks her nose into Stiles’ neck. Stiles yips in surprise and her skin runs cold as defense. Erica pulls back, “Scent marking.” She smiles.

 

“Wouldn’t want to do that, Erica.” Boyd says gravely. Erica let’s go of Stiles and heads back to her seat on the couch. “Boss has to do it first.” Boyd whispers, which if Stiles didn’t have super hearing, she wouldn’t have known. It isn’t long before Stiles is sitting on the could with each werewolf laying on her or next to her.

 

Puppy piles.

 

They’re half way through the Nightmare Before Christmas when they hear Derek in the kitchen. Stiles is the first to push the others aside and head to the kitchen.

 

“So this ability to hear and smell things is great, you can’t sneak up on me anymore.” She says happily as she goes towards the island there. Derek just huffs, “Erica, she uh,” Stiles rubbed the back of her neck as she fought for the words, “She kind of stuck her nose on my neck when I got here. Not too sure what that was about but I was sli-”

 

Stiles stops talking because when she looks up to meet Derek’s eyes, there a bright red. “Uh, any need for those?” she points to Derek’s eyes.

 

Derek gives a low growl and Stiles flinches at the sound. She’s never heard it so clear before. It’s like it vibrated through her. “That’s, well that’s new. Do all your beta’s feel the growls? Because that’s something no one will get used too.” Stiles says. Derek makes his way to her and pulls her wrist to his nose.

 

Stiles didn’t move, she couldn’t move. Derek inhaled and Stiles _did not_ catch her breath (shut up.) Derek released her wrist and went back to doing whatever it was that he was doing. Stiles takes a step back “Well, you are defiantly going to have to explain that to me. Erica called it scent marking. But I’m not sure what it is that I’m doing here.”

 

Derek looked over his shoulder slightly, “We’ll teach you.” Is all he said. Stiles takes that as a opportunity to head back to the living room.

 

\--

 

Derek can’t.

 

He is currently cursing himself for losing control like that. To lose his senses and have to have Stiles’ scent in his nose, it wasn’t rational. He was lucky enough that his beta’s weren’t there to witness it. They’d never let him live it down.

 

He hears them laugh and talk about things, if normal people would hear, would sound strange. But the only voice and heart he’s listening too is the one that’s more- No. Stop.

 

_Shit._


	3. What was home to begin with?

Stiles is walking around the empty Hale house, the beta’s went to their little par-core field to train, so Stiles was left to her own devices.

 

She took her new sense of smell for a ride, in the living room she could smell; sweat, something that smelled like flowers, but artificial she figured Lydia was the only one that could stand the smell. There was also something that drew her out of the living room and upstairs. Something that didn’t quiet smell of sweat and teenagers.

 

Something spicy and edgy, and maybe a little bit of the woods after a winter rain; it was inviting and overall begging her to look for it.

 

Stiles didn’t get far with it before she hear someone in the kitchen. _Later;_ she promised as she trotted back down stairs to the kitchen.

 

Derek is pulling a water bottle from the fridge when Stiles makes herself known. “How’s the training, oh wise and masterful Alpha?” Stiles jokes as she crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the opening frame. Derek doesn’t turn around to see her, he just sort of stands there.

 

It almost looks like he’s tense, maybe nervous about something. In the many months that Stiles has gotten to be around Derek, she’s never seen him _nervous_.

 

Then it hits Stiles like the recoil to her favorite crossbow, that edgy smell, it’s in the kitchen now, it wasn’t there before and it sure wasn’t there when Derek was looking for water. So where’s it coming from.

 

“Question;” Stiles frowns her brows as she thinks while she talks “I know you told me emotions have certain scents and all that wonderful mojo going on, so-” Stiles stops to watch Derek’s back tense up a little more, she’s starting to think that she isn’t welcome to asking such a question. But her mouth isn’t shutting up now. “What does each emotion smell like? Like nervousness for example.”

 

That seems to have Derek way on edge, “Scott will teach you.” Is all Derek says before he’s out the back door and off to the training field. _Strange_ , Stiles notes.

 

\--

 

“You have been on our asses since we left!” Erica exclaims as she slaps her hands at her sides with an exasperated sigh. “She’s right boss,” Boyd adds.

 

Derek trying to fill his lungs with air as his beta’s are all collapsed on the forest floor. “You know why he’s doing it right?” Jackson adds, Derek gives a low warning growl as he glares over at Jackson.

 

“It can’t be because of Stiles,” Scott says nonchalantly. Aiden gives a huff as he leans against Ethan, “He’s got a crush on her, you could sm-” Derek’s eyes are glowing red as she surprises Aiden with an attack.

 

Derek growls “Never let your guard down.”

 

The subject was dropped and everyone continued as they were.

 

\--

 

Stiles was on the floor in the living room when she hears everyone returning. She’d moved the coffee table so her limbs could be spread out, “What the hell?” Cora’s voice calls to Stiles, she just makes a muffled noise from where she is.

 

Her hair is covering her face and she can’t really see, she doesn’t want to move either. “Is she dead?” Ethan asks, Stiles makes another muffled noise and she hears Scott laugh.

 

“That’s her thinking pose.” Scott adds, because he knows her well enough. Stiles held up a thumbs up for Scott explaining.

 

She was too busy thinking anyway, she needed to figure out where and what the scent was. As the pack piled in Stiles could smell sweat and something the was comfortable to her nose, like warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream on the side.

 

So it wasn’t on any of them, maybe it had to be on one specific person. But the only one Stiles has smelt it on was—Derek.

 

“You hungry Stiles?” she hears Scott ask, because he’s the best friend a girl could ask for. She made a whining noise she hoped Scott would sense as an agreement. Because she was hungry, and the last time she ate seemed like such a distant time ago.

 

“Alright, pizza it is.” Scott confirmed. Stiles rolled over on to her back and was met with wondering eyes. Let’s see, there’s Aiden and Ethan, there’s Lydia and Cora, there’s Jackson, and finally there’s Scott and Boyd. “Uh, hi.” Stiles says, “I’m uh, rolling in your guys wet dog smell so you don’t have to cringe when you take a whiff of me.”

 

It seemed logical enough, and a reasonable answer.

 

“Not that anyone would take advantage of a timid little fox like you.” Stiles body shiver slightly and she didn’t like that. She got up and found herself behind Boyd.

 

“Peter.” Scott says gravely. “Decided to show up.” Peter gave a delighted chuckled as he made his way down the staircase. “He wasn’t here before.” Stiles says quietly against Boyd’s bicep. Boyd glances at her slight and back up to meet Peter’s.

 

“It’s the Kooky uncle,” Ethan humors. “Nothing to be afraid of.” Aiden adds, but that’s not right. Stiles was terrified and she had no idea why. Peter was a werewolf just like the others, so why the hell was she so scared of him?

 

That’s when she caught that Spicy and edgy smell again. She looked around as she held on to the back of Boyd’s t-shirt for security. Derek walked in just then, quiet, stealthy and maybe a little bit lethal. He looked around, Stiles assumes counting, and his eyes stop briefly on Stiles holding on to Boyd; suddenly the smell was taking a rusty metal change.

 

It wasn’t a sweet and strong, it almost left a metallic after taste on Stiles’ tongue.

 

“Boyd.” Derek growled, it was low and almost sounded like he used Boyd’s name as an order. Which must have been what it was, because Boyd was now moving away from Stiles; she reluctantly let go of his shirt.

 

“Now my dear Nephew, why would you ruin such good fun?” Peter grinned. There something about Peter that just didn’t sit right with Stiles, she knew well that she could kill him if he tried anything. Before, that is. But now, know there was something bone rattling wrong with this man.

 

“Shut up, Peter.” Derek said with a scowl. Stiles wasn’t totally sure that was affective in anyway way. But Peter raised his hands in surrender and back off into his little window seat in the living. Since Stiles started hangout here, she has taken claim to that window seat.

 

“Well shit.” Stiles says as she looks around like she has no idea what just happened.

 

\--

 

Derek knows well what Peter’s doing by taking Stiles’ window seat, her scent is buried deep in the curtains and cushions that pile there while she’s here. Derek knows Peter is just trying to annoy him. Derek will deny as long as he wants that it _doesn’t_ piss him off.

 

Derek wonders into his study and sits in his own window seat there. He stares out as the sun finds it way back to the west coast horizon. He sighs and takes in the scent of his pack eating pizza and enjoying the buzz that comes with sugary drinks. It’s soothing, it’s home and purpose.

 

“Hey,” Stiles’ voice pulls Derek’s attention from the nap he was resisting. He grazes his eyes over her late afternoon silhouette, _the fuck?_ Derek metal punched himself. Who the hell uses the word silhouette?—Apparently Derek.

 

She held a paper plate in her hand and a paper cup to match. Derek doesn’t have to hear Stiles tell him that she brought him food, he can smell it from a mile away. “I uh, I figured you’d want some.” Stiles said, arousal filled Derek’s nose, and Stiles heart quickened, if only slightly.

 

“I know you’re not much of an interactive Alpha, so solitude is your thing, uh no judgment there, but even werewolves need to eat and well I fi-”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“-Gured that you would like pizza, just assuming and all. Because Erica didn’t want to tell me if you did or di-”

 

“Stiles.” Derek said it a little more affirmative, Stiles’ babble ceased as she blinked wided eyed at Derek. He gave her a grin, one he wasn’t sure he was still capable of doing. Her heart jumped, “Thank you.” Derek got up and took the items from her, he set them on his small corner desk.

 

“Uh, you’re welcome I, um I guess.” She’s gone before Derek turns around. Her scent of sweet summer apples with a tangy spice to it lingered for as long as Derek didn’t move. And he refused to move.

 

\--

 

Stiles didn’t think seeing Derek like that would cause such, such a _want._ He looked tired but peacefully, Stiles curses herself for disturbing him. But the way the sun mid-afternoon sun glazes over Derek’s frame was just something out of a movie.

 

She continued her night with them, forgetting that she had to go home. But what was home anymore. She was asleep before the movie ended, wrapped in warmth and comfort.

 

“Stiles.”

 

She felt a gentle shake of her shoulder and she mumbled as she stretched her arms out and get comfortable against Scott.

 

“Stiles.” Again with her name being called. “Wha-?” she gruffed out with a sleep heavy voice.

 

“It’s past midnight, your brothers will come looking for you.” Isaac?

 

“Yeah, c’mon, I’ll wake you home.”

 

Stiles slumped up and looked around lazily, everyone was piled up on the floor in front of her. Scott was next to her, Boyd was on the floor next to her feet, Erica was resting her head on him, Jackson had his head on a pillow by Boyd’s thigh. Lydia was resting on Jackson’s chest then Aiden was on her hip, lastly, Ethan was sprawled out in-between Boyd’s legs.

 

Stiles smiled lazily as Isaac helped her out of the mess of people.

 

“Alright, let’s go.” Stiles whispered as she and Isaac made their way out. It was a cool night and Stiles began to wonder why she was going back to begin with. What did she have there? Ignorant brother’s who treat her like she doesn’t mean much, but then she means too much.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Isaac says, Stiles lets out a small laugh and looks down at her feet. “I was, uh, wondering why I was walking back _home._ ” She used the term loosely, almost like it didn’t exist when she was talking about it.

 

Isaac seems to ponder the thought for a brief moment, “You love your brothers right?”

 

It’s almost like a bullet in her heart as she has to second guess herself. Stiles hasn’t known anything besides her brothers, Casitel, Ruby, Uncle Bobby, Aunt Ellen, Cousin Jo, really, that’s family. And right now, Stiles was denying them all. She was become the very thing they hunt.

 

How was she going to live with herself?

 

\--

 

Stiles woke up with a jolt. Something was stinging her chest and she wasn’t sure what it was. She pushed off her covers and reached for the blade under her pillow, her eyes came open and there was nothing in the dark. Just the shine of the moon through her window.

 

She set her blade down and tried to calm her pounding heart. “What the hell.” She whispers as she brushes her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face. She curled her knees up to her chest and she whimpered quietly until her back hurt.

 

\--

 

“Stiles!” Dean’s voice calls her, “We’re headed to Nevada, on a case.” Stiles mumbled and grumbled as she pulled herself out of bed and knocked once on her door.  “We’ll send Cas to come check on you.” Another knock.

 

Before she knew it she heard the door shut and the Impala speed off. Stiles was to tired and too guilty to care about anything.

 

It was a rough night and she had panic attacks that haven’t happened in years. The first one came at her like a typhoon. Sending her body on a clenching rage and her lungs felt like they didn’t even exist.

 

The last three just forced her into a tight ball of her limbs. She was in no mood to be anywhere. She doesn’t even remember when school starts. She should just stop going. She’s getting tired of seeing teenage faces that aren’t the ones she wants to see.

 

Wait, what?

 

Stiles slumps down with her back to her door and pulls her knees back up to her chest. She can skip school today. And maybe all week.


End file.
